A Very Late Birthday Present
by FanofBellaandEdward
Summary: There's getting a present which was bought at the last minute - and then there's getting a present several months later. Weird? Yes, but I guess that's what happens when you're Harry Potter. Harry's pov; established slash; MPreg; minor violence; more warnings inside
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: This idea wouldn't leave me alone and I figured seeing as Harry's birthday is today, I might as well write it. I've decided to cut it up in two parts, as I was running out of time and wanted to post it on time still *coughs***

 **Warnings will be updated for each part.**

 **Warnings: Harry's pov; established slash; ignores epilogue; minor violence; a smidgen of drama**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Part 1_

The explosion rocked the building violently, causing everyone inside to grapple for something to hold. Bits of the ceiling crashed down, dust mingling with the smoke which was slowly starting to fill the space. The crackling sound of flames licking at everything it reached sounded dangerously loud and when he looked up briefly, the fire was nearing the edge of the hole in the ceiling, having swallowed up a large part of the first floor already.

Fuck, they didn't have that much time left.

A shadow sped past in the hallway right next to them and he was already running after it before anyone else could react.

"Ron!" he yelled, swishing his wand harshly at a large piece of a wooden beam which had blocked the door for the most part. It shattered apart in just a couple of seconds, no longer holding him back from pursuing one of the Dark Wizards.

"Yeah, I got it!" his friend shouted back, already back to battling a Mage.

Reassured that the rest could handle the group inside the house, Harry put forth an extra burst of speed so that he could catch up to the ringleader.

They had been tracking down this particular group for three months and today they were finally close to capturing all of them. The group consisted out of a couple of Mage, four Hags and seven Dark Wizards. They had been planning to raise an army of Dark Creatures to overthrow the Ministry and gain control over the Wizarding World.

A rather cliché plan when it came to evil plans if one asked Harry, but cliché or not, this group of criminals had turned out to be more than a simple ragtag band. They had got dangerously close to making a deal with the vampires and the only reason why the Aurors had been able to interfere today was because one of the vampires had come forward with the information.

Thank Merlin Simon had been stubborn enough to keep his vampire informant. Morgana knew how far the criminals would have got otherwise.

The wizard he was chasing slipped into a small alley, one so inconspicuous Harry might have run past it if he wasn't so fixated on the guy. Like hell was he going to let him escape!

A bright purple beam greeted him when he skidded into the alley and he dropped down hastily, hearing it whistling sharply as it sped right over his head. Rolling to the right, he nary avoided being hit by a Stunner, firing back one of his own. That was answered with loud cursing, but his spell hadn't hit its mark apparently because a bright blue ball came speeding at him next.

Deflecting it with a shield, he watched the ball hit the opposite wall and slam straight through it, creating a large hole. He winced and hoped nobody was in the building but then another curse – a pitch black lightening bolt this time – zoomed straight at him and he couldn't afford to think of anything else but the duel now.

Curses and spells went back and forth, slamming into shields, bursting apart against the dumpsters they were hiding, creating small craters in the ground. The air sparked and oozed with the foul smell of Dark Magic. A small fire started in the furthest corner of the alley, for now still contained to a small area, but that wouldn't last long.

Finally Harry saw an opening and he took it, firing a Stunner at the other man with a bit more force than he intended to. The spell slammed into the dark haired man so forcefully, the power behind it had him flying through the air before landing hard on the ground a couple of feet further.

If he wasn't unconscious due to the spell, the harsh smack against the ground would have done the trick for sure.

Still, Harry was cautious as he approached the guy. He was already bearing a rather nasty cut in his left side, which throbbed and stung with every step he took, the blood sticking the material of his Auror robes to the wound. Getting his clothes off after this was going to be so much fun.

"Accio wand!" Pushing his foot against the man's leg, he studied his face for any signs that he was faking being unconscious whilst snatching the wand out of the air. It was rare, but some people developed an immunity towards Stunners and the last thing he needed was for the other guy to sudden lung forwards and grab him or kick him.

No wand didn't necessarily mean a person was harmless.

The man's face was slack jawed, bruised and cut from curses he hadn't been able to avoid, and he laid there completely limp, not even stirring when Harry pressed his foot a tad harder against him.

"Got you," he sighed, feeling exhaustion creeping up on him. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep in what felt like weeks and this duel just now hadn't improved matters. He had the ringleader now, though, and back at the house the other Aurors were rounding up the rest of the gang.

As soon as the whole group was delivered to Azkaban to wait there for their trial to start the case would be closed and he could finally get some decent sleep again.

Until the next complicated case popped up, of course.

"Incarcerous!" Instead of ropes, though, a bunch of deep blue flowers burst out of the tip of his wand, covering the wizard's chest completely.

"Fuck, not again!" he hissed, scowling at his wand as if it had betrayed him.

It might as well have, because that spell definitely didn't conjure damn flowers! Why the hell did this keep happening to –

"Harry, mate, you all right?"

Ron was standing at the entrance of the alley with some blood smeared across his forehead from a thin cut. He didn't look too badly hurt, save for a small limp when he took a couple of steps closer.

"You got the rest of them?" Harry asked, turning around to face him, wondering in the meantime how the hell he was going to explain the presence of those flowers.

"Yeah, Carl was tying up the last one when I left," Ron confirmed. "You got the leader?"

"Yep, got him with a Stunner after a while," Harry sighed, rubbing some sweat from his forehead before waving haphazardly at the unconscious man behind him.

His friend came closer and his eyebrows shot up when he noticed the flowers. "Eh, Harry, why are there flowers on his chest?" he asked perplexed and well, Harry couldn't exactly blame him.

"A weird result of two of our curses that clashed together," the dark haired man said vaguely, throwing out the first excuse he could come up with.

"Right," Ron said slowly, eyeing the flowers dubiously for a moment before a quick flick and swish of his wand had most of the flowers scattering to the ground. He shook his head and said, "Incarcerous!"

Ron's wand wasn't being a dick to its owner, clearly, because thick ropes instantly wrapped themselves around the Dark Wizard, tight enough that he wouldn't be able to move even an inch without them digging into his skin.

Some of the remaining flowers got crushed between the ropes, bleeding blue over the light brown restraints.

Clasping the dark haired man's shoulder, Ron grinned, already having dismissed the odd presence of the flowers, "Come on, let's go. You should see a Healer before you go home, though."

"Yeah, I know," Harry grimaced, gingerly poking the injury in his side. He clenched his teeth when the pain flared up again and sighed annoyed. All he wanted was to go home and catch some sleep, but he knew he'd get it if he went home without consulting a Healer first.

After all the crap with this group and his wand acting up, he really wasn't in the mood for a new fight about his supposed carelessness.

Levitating the Dark Wizard in front of him, Ron started making his way out of the alley. "Let's dump these bastards in Azkaban."

"All right," Harry muttered and after casting a last look at the flowers – feeling like they were mocking him, even in their scattered state – he followed Ron out of the alley.

Thank Merlin he wasn't part of the group who were tasked with cleaning up the remains of the magic used.

* * *

The injury in his side was completely healed.

Given that Healing magic existed that wasn't so strange naturally – Morgana knew he had needed his fair share of Healing already in his life so far – except for the fact that the Healer hadn't cast any spells to speed up the healing of the injury.

By the time one of the Healers had seen to him, the deep gash in his side had already knitted itself together, leaving nothing but a pink line behind. His bruises and other cuts had healed as well; old blood crusted to his skin and some tearing in his robes the only evidence he had ever been hurt.

He had told the bemused Healer that someone else had already taken care of him and had rushed out of the room before the blonde woman had been able to ask any further questions.

Problem was: no Healer or Mediwizard or Mediwitch or even one of his colleagues had healed his injuries.

"What the hell is happening to me?" he whispered, staring at his mirror image.

As soon as he had arrived home, he had gone straight to the bedroom and had got rid of all his clothes, coming to a stop in front of the large mirror. There were streaks of dirt across his face and hands from where he had rolled over the ground and hidden behind dumpsters and grimy walls, and smudges of blood on his cheek, right leg and his left side. The blood had coloured to a rusty brown and was flaking; it itched slightly.

Running his hands through his hair, he gripped the dark locks and stared at himself; his gaze gliding over the faint pink scar in his left side; the old burn scar on his chest from the locket; the small scar in his arm from where the Basilisk had bit him. There were a couple of other scars on his back and legs, all of them results of the battles he had been in.

Most scars had needed specialised Healing spells – but the last couple of months his injuries started healing without any outside help. No matter whether he got burned, cut, scraped, stabbed, sliced apart – no matter the injury, a couple of hours later he'd be fine, every injury healed. No spell or potion was needed to help him with recovering from his wounds.

If it had only been the whole healing from injuries without actual spells part, he could have dealt with that. It would still have been incredibly weird, but he could chalk it off to his magic being overeager to help him. His magic had helped him out in the past before without him being really aware of it.

So while weird, he could have dealt with it. No biggie. It was actually quite handy, considering he didn't have to get poked and prodded by a Healer anymore, nor answer the same goddamn questions every time, despite the fact that his answers never changed.

In the last two months, however, his magic had started to act up in other ways too, ways that he couldn't find an explanation for at all. Sometimes he could cast his spells, charms and curses without any issues, but then there were times – times like today when the Binding spell had turned out completely different – where his magic would start acting all nilly willy and produce random results like flowers where ropes should be and little fireworks when he actually wanted to conjure water.

It was as if his magic was starting to live its own life and he was starting to really worry about it. He knew he should seek someone out, maybe Hermione might know the answer, but …

How the hell was he going to explain this? How the hell could he explain that he healed on his own and that his spell work occasionally fucked up?

That wasn't normal, right? He had never heard of someone healing on their own spontaneously. He was still being stared at because of the whole Boy-Who-Lived-Twice bullshit – how much worse would the attention get if word came out that he could heal on his own and his magic had become unreliable?

He'd be an experiment to the Healers, a walking target for any criminal, and a freak to the others. The public still tended to change its opinion regarding him every week it seemed – they weren't going to be better once this news reached their ears.

" _Fuck_." Despondently he sank down on the bed and buried his face into his hands.

What the hell was he going to do about this? He couldn't write off anymore as just pure coincidence as he had done at the start. This was a pattern, becoming consistent to the point he could no longer afford to keep ignoring it. This time his magic had only acted up after the Dark Wizard had already been unconscious – next time he might not be so lucky anymore.

What could he do, though? Was there even a solution for this? Maybe it was just temporary, a strange fluke, his magic acting funny for a while.

Maybe his magic would go back to normal if he waited a little longer?

"Harry?"

"Shit!" He jumped off from the bed, taking a few steps away from it as footsteps ascended the staircase. He cleared his throat and called out, "I'm in the bedroom!"

"You're home early – please don't tell me that's your blood." Draco came to a stop in the doorway; his grey eyes narrowing dangerously as he took in the sight of his half naked lover.

"We captured that group who wanted to use Dark Creatures to overthrow the Ministry," Harry chose to deflect, bracing himself as the blond strode towards him.

"That's great and I congratulate you for that, but you didn't answer my question," Draco drawled; his voice gaining that dangerous lilt that told Harry he was starting to walk on thin ice. His brewing must not have gone well today if he was this easily irritated.

"It wasn't anything serious," Harry hedged and clucked his tongue, waving weakly at his side. "Just some curses that got past my shield, but I'm already healed, see?"

"And that should make me feel better?" Draco frowned; his eyes darkened as he traced the pink scar with his index finger. "This one looked rather deep."

Harry shrugged, looking away awkwardly as he inwardly cursed himself out. He should have paid better attention to the clock, damn it. Draco always arrived home around this hour; he should have taken a shower and changed into new clothes before the blond could catch him in his post battle state.

"It wasn't that bad," he tried again, but it was a weak retort and they both knew it.

"Would you please consider the idea of becoming a duel instructor?" Draco asked plaintively.

Annoyed, Harry pulled away, stepping out of the blond's reach. "We already discussed this, Draco," he said stiffly. "I'm not giving up my job as an Auror, how many times do I have to say this?"

Grey eyes flashed, igniting with cold anger. "And how many times do I have to tell you that I don't like seeing you constantly hurt? You're taking too many risks and one of these days that's going to end badly, Potter!"

"I know what the fuck I'm doing, _Malfoy_!" Harry spat, anger flaring up in response and he balled his fists. "I told you from the start that I'm not going to give up my job! You knew what you were getting into!"

They had had this argument several times before already – practically since they had started dating three years ago. Draco wanted him to become a duel instructor, because he thought being an Auror was too dangerous. Harry wasn't stupid, he wasn't going to deny that his job could be very dangerous at times, but he wasn't willing to give it up either. Being an Auror was something he was good at; he could make a difference in the world by putting away the bad people and keeping others safe.

As a duel instructor he would be able to help people, yes, teach them how to defend themselves, but it wasn't the same as actively keeping others safe by putting criminals in Azkaban.

Did he see himself chasing Dark Wizards for the rest of his life? Maybe not. Maybe in a couple of years he'd grow tired of the chasing, of the fighting, of the endless paperwork, of the arguing and occasional backstabbing in the Auror force. But that was then, not now. Now he couldn't imagine not being an Auror, couldn't envision doing something else.

If Draco couldn't deal with that, well …

"Is it that awful that I just want you safe?!" Draco hissed, his wand sparking in reaction to his anger.

"Your potions can explode and you can die," Harry stated bluntly, crossing his arms and ignoring how the chilly air coming through the open window stung his bare skin. "You could inhale toxic smoke by accident, get hurt if you spill a potion, burn yourself – I'm not telling you to stop being a Potions Master, even though I've seen first hand how even the most experienced brewer can make a deadly mistake."

"Damn it, Harry, that's not the same thing!" Draco snapped, taking a step closer. "And you fucking know that! Why are you so goddamn stubborn? You don't have to be a hero all the time!"

Like a balloon that got popped with a needle, all the anger suddenly left Harry, leaving nothing but a bone deep exhaustion in its wake. He didn't want to continue this argument; nothing new was being said anyways, it was just another rehash of the other fights they had had about this topic before. A fight they'd probably keep having until Harry decided he had enough of being an Auror.

There was no point in this. He just wanted to take a shower, forget this whole fight had ever happened and curl up in Draco's arms.

Just for this evening he wanted to forget how weird his magic was acting and just wanted to feel _normal_.

Was that too much to ask for?

Shoulders slumping, he uncrossed his arms and released a soft sigh. "Can we just – can we take a bath together? I don't want to fight anymore," he said quietly.

Draco deflated visibly as his anger left him as well. "You think I like fighting with you?" he asked wearily. "I'm just worried about you, Harry."

The dark haired man nodded slowly. "I know." He did. There was no denying that. They might have started out as rivals, enemies even at one point, once, but they had turned into so much more now. "And I understand."

He was the one who took a step closer now, holding out his hand. "I'm not saying I'll be an Auror for whole my life, but now I don't want to be anything else. I promise I won't take any unnecessary risks."

Draco opened his mouth, presumably to protest that notion, but Harry went on, waving to his body with his other hand, "Now as you can see, I'm in need of a bath. Care to join me and make sure I'm clean everywhere?" He forced himself to sound light-hearted, taking another couple of steps closer until his fingers brushed against Draco's arm.

"I guess I could do that," Draco murmured and closed one arm around Harry's waist, pressing him closer against his body before angling Harry's head in a better position to kiss him.

Harry clasped his own arms around Draco's neck and kissed back, feeling soft lips part underneath his own and hands dipping down to rest on his arse.

Yeah, forgetting his weird magic for one night wouldn't hurt. What was the worst that could happen anyway?

* * *

 **AN2: It has been a while since I last posted a Drarry story, so I hope this part wasn't too bad!**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next part! *slinks away to work on stories***

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: First of all, many apologies for taking so long, but I've been busy with various things and this chapter was giving me some unexpected trouble.**

 **Second of all: as it turns out this story will actually be three parts instead of two *coughs***

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: Ern Estine 13624; PDibby; Rei . Avi; AlyssJocelyn; babyvfan; MirrorFlower and DarkWind; yukino76; Gina-luliana; Guest; Yana5; FairyEden; SehunsBae37; Will . Hell . Minna . - Sophia Isobel; Ilamay; delia cerrano; Elektra107; lifesocool; skyglazingMaro; Sweetciel; Baxter87**

 **Warnings: some time skips; implied mature content (for full version, please visit my profile for more information); discovery of what's wrong with Harry**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Part 2_

"Heard your last case was a rough one." Hermione looked at him sympathetically, pushing a mug with coffee to him.

When Harry eyed Ron reproachingly the man held up his hands. "Look, mate, there was no way I could have hidden all those bandages on me and the potion vials I got," he defended himself and then frowned and squinted at him. "How come you're not wearing any bandages, anyway? I'm pretty sure you were bleeding like mad out of your side yesterday."

"The cut looked worse than it was," Harry mumbled, taking a bite from his toast. "The Healer only had to use a couple of spells and I was cleared."

"Lucky you," Ron grumbled before attacking his plate upon which he had piled a stack of sausages and scrambled eggs.

"You're sure you're feeling all right, Harry?" Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "You look a bit peaky."

He waved away her concern. "I'm fine, just didn't sleep very well."

He'd woken up in the night feeling queasy and only after he had thrown up around an hour later had he been able to catch some sleep again. He was lucky he had had the foresight to cast a Silence Bubble around the bathroom, because he was pretty sure Draco wouldn't have let him leave the house today if he had known he had been throwing up.

He had agreed to have breakfast with his friends, however, a tradition they had started several years ago when they had all got busier with their jobs, and he wasn't about to bail on them just because he had thrown up once.

"I'm surprised Malfoy isn't hovering around you now, given how hurt you were yesterday," Hermione remarked, sounding partly bemused and amused at the same time. Harry's grimace had her sighing. "You got into a fight?" she asked knowingly.

"He hasn't let go of the duel instructor idea yet," Harry muttered, taking a sip of his coffee.

"How bad was the fight this time?"

While they would never be best friends, or regular friends even, Ron and Hermione had come to accept Draco as part of Harry's life. They had declared him insane three years ago when he had admitted to having gone on a date with Draco – and honestly he hadn't been able to blame them for that. If someone had told him in Hogwarts that one day he'd agree to go out with his school nemesis on an actual, honest to god date, he'd have had a laughing fit and would have directed them to a Mind Healer.

Time had changed them, however, the both of them growing past their rivalry when they had started working together during one particular case in which they had required a Potion Master's knowledge. They had started spending more time together and before Harry had fully realised it, he had said yes to a date with the blond.

There had been arguments with the Weasley family, full blown out fights between him and Ron even, but in the end when everyone had seen with their own eyes that Harry was serious about this relationship, that Draco wasn't playing some kind of game, they had come to accept the blond wizard.

They would never fully like or trust each other, Harry knew, but they weren't actively fighting anymore and that was good enough.

He and Draco might have changed throughout the years, but one thing which hadn't changed was their ability to get underneath the other's skin and when they fought, they fought viciously. Hermione and Ron were no strangers to Harry occasionally stumbling into their cottage after a fierce argument with Draco. In the beginning they had been ready to fly to Harry's defence until they had realised that ironically, most fights between Draco and Harry now were about the possible dangers of Harry's job.

When the couple had realised that the majority of the fights stemmed from Draco's desire to keep Harry safe, they had settled into the role of being sympathetic best friends who let Harry rage about his boyfriend and his ridiculous demands before gently reminding him that _Draco was just worried about him and wouldn't Harry feel the same if the roles were reversed?_

Draco would probably never believe that Ron and Hermione were occasionally on his side.

"Not as bad," he answered, spreading a layer of strawberry jam on a new piece of toast. "I wasn't in the mood for a fight and he let it go. Not very willingly, but he let it go."

"He wouldn't be Malfoy if he just gave in," Hermione said amused, even though there was still a trace of concern in her warm brown eyes.

Ron huffed annoyed. "Can we talk about something else than Malfoy's issues?" he whined.

She rolled her eyes. "What, like the fact that you still haven't taken your potions?" she reminded him primly, looking pointedly at the three dark green vials waiting on the kitchen counter.

Ron pulled a face. "I'm feeling fine, 'Mione, I don't need them," he said moodily.

"I'd believe that if you weren't complaining about your leg when you got out of bed," she sniffed.

Leaning back into his chair whilst enjoying his breakfast, Harry let the by now familiar bickering distract him from the slight queasiness still lingering in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

"I feel like the evening went pretty well," Draco stated as the flames behind them turned from a poisonous green back into merry gold and red.

Harry snorted and raised an eyebrow, unclasping his outer robes. "You mean, your father stopped looking like he wants to set me on fire with his eyes alone?"

"I was talking more about his civil behaviour," Draco said, shaking his head.

"Guess your mother finally got through him," Harry hummed, making his way deeper inside their house.

They had shared lunch and dinner with Draco's parents today – something which they tried to do at least once a month after Lucius had stopped raising the wards against Harry. That particular trick had lasted an impressive five months before Narcissa had grown tired with her husband's antics. That was what Harry assumed had happened at least, because when Draco had convinced him after those five months to give visiting the manor another try, Harry had managed to get through the wards without being rejected by them.

Narcissa was not someone to be trifled with, that was for certain. Lucius might have kept up the foul looks even after not raising the wards anymore, but after those five months he had never really made a comment about Harry anymore. Whatever Narcissa had told him – or threatened with, either was possible – it had made a lasting impression on the man and he'd stopped trying to convince Draco that there were better options for him out there.

Would Harry ever be on good terms with Lucius like he had grown to be with Narcissa? No, most likely not. Too much had happened for that to happen. Harry would settle for civil behaviour at most and it seemed like he was finally getting that.

Only took the older blond three years to get to this point. Better late than never.

"Well, she always had a way of dealing with him," Draco commented offhandedly, following the dark haired man upstairs.

Draco had insisted on putting Harry into some new robes he had bought some time ago, but Harry already knew that after today he would never wear this particular set again. The deep blue colour was magnificent, no doubt about that, and it fitted perfectly, but the collar itched around his throat and Soothing Charms only helped a little bit. No matter how much it had made grey eyes gleam with satisfaction at seeing Harry dressed in these robes, he wasn't about to keep wearing something that itched like crazy.

"You didn't have to follow me up here, you know," Harry remarked amused when Draco entered their bedroom closely behind him. He started undoing the buttons of the robes, but stilled when hands landed on his hips and warmth pressed against his back. "Draco?"

"Just helping you undress," Draco replied, almost lazily as slender fingers took care of the rest of the buttons.

"Just helping me undress, hm?" Harry quirked an eyebrow as Draco's hands dipped inside the robes and rucked up his shirt; his fingers resting on his bare skin. "And the whole feeling me up kind of thing is accidental then?"

"Just making sure I didn't skip a button," the blond answered airily; his breath warm in Harry's neck.

"How thoughtful," Harry said dryly, watching with a raised eyebrow how a hand slipped an inch lower, fingers resting right above the waistband of his trousers.

"You know me," Draco hummed, lips trailing over the juncture between Harry's neck and right shoulder. "I'm a very thoughtful person."

"Of course you are," the dark haired man smirked and took a step towards the bed, away from the other one. Carelessly he dropped the robes to the floor and turned around, leaving him in just his trousers.

Grey eyes flickered towards the sad heap of fabric lying on the carpet. "That's an expensive set of robes," Draco pointed out, seemingly torn between being amused and outraged at Harry's flippant treatment of the clothes.

"What do you prefer: me with those robes on or me without them on the bed and you in me?" Harry asked boldly and undid the button of his trousers with a flick. He pulled down the zipper a few teeth before halting and looking at the blond expectantly.

"Well, when you put it like that," Draco smirked, his eyes darkening as his pupils expanded.

The next moment his own robes were dumped onto the floor.

* * *

" _F-fuck_ ," Harry hissed and his fingers scrambled across a sweat slicked back, searching for a way to anchor himself, as a particular rough thrust against his sweet spot had him shaking; pleasure pulsating throughout his entire body, centring itself in the pit of his belly.

He wasn't going to last much longer anymore, not with the way Draco was determined to hit that particular spot deep within him every time he slammed inside; not with the way his groin kept being trapped between them, rubbing across slick skin.

Not with how Draco kept kissing him; kisses so passionate and rough, they bordered on absolutely depraved, filthy even.

Definitely not with the words being crooned into his ear, slipping from between kiss bruised lips, breathless and rough. "Just look at you, swallowing me up like that," Draco whispered, nearly hissing as he grabbed Harry's legs roughly and pushed them over his shoulders, bending the dark haired man in two and making him shout as there was no way anymore to pull away from the blinding pleasure as the blond kept hitting his spot dead on every time now.

Not that he ever wanted to pull away from that.

"God, you feel so tight," Draco practically snarled; his eyes glowing almost ominously silver when he gazed down at his lover. His blond hair was no longer slicked back, but fell in loose strands forwards, brushing Harry's cheeks whenever Draco dipped his head down for a kiss.

"So fucking amazing," he swore, stealing yet another kiss; moaning into it when Harry's muscles squeezed around him.

"D-don't stop," Harry hissed between gritted teeth as pleasure rapidly started mounting, spreading from his lower belly to the rest of his body, making every inch of him tingle and spots dancing in front of his eyes.

His muscles were screaming with how tightly wrapped his arms were around Draco's neck and his legs started aching slightly in the position they were in, but none of that mattered right now as he was chasing after his climax, as his tongue met Draco's and teeth nipped at swollen lips.

"I'm not planning to," Draco promised him darkly and bore down with his next thrust, sheathing himself even deeper into Harry, something he hadn't thought was possible, and hitting his spot dead on and _oh fuck_ –

He threw his head back and screamed when pleasure exploded in him, racing through his veins and setting him alight. His whole body quaked underneath the onslaught and his mouth was open as he gasped for air; his nails digging into Draco's shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him.

Still Draco kept moving, kept pressing _there_ , and the pleasure shifted, turned into something else, something so intense he couldn't decide whether it hurt or not, but it had him sobbing, unintelligible words pouring out his mouth, and then Draco stilled and shuddered and buried his face in Harry's neck as he spilt deep inside him.

When green eyes shot open, they saw his hands _glowing_.

His breath abruptly left him and he stiffened, staring horrified at the way his hands seemed to pulsate with a gentle golden light as if the sun itself was wrapping several of its beams around them.

"Harry?" Draco's voice came out slurred and when he raised his head and looked at the dark haired man, his eyes were dazed; his pupils still fairly blown.

Clenching his hands into fists and keeping them hidden behind Draco's back, Harry forced himself to smile and he kissed the blond; their lips meeting in a gentle touch now, instead of the frenzy of just a minute before.

"I love you," he murmured.

Something in his chest clenched together when Draco gave him a soft smile and caressed his cheek tenderly. "I love you too."

* * *

The glowing hands part had definitely been an entirely new development and if Harry had any shred of common sense, he would have gone straight to a Healer to finally find out just what the hell was wrong with him.

Apparently he didn't have a shred of common sense, though, because even though he realised it was beyond high time to consult a Healer, he kept finding excuses not to go. That case of Roberts still needed to be completed and delivered to the archive; he had suspects to interrogate; a case about an old wizard dying from an overdose of Calming Draught to solve. He had to visit Molly and reassure her over and over again in the span of a couple of hours that yes, he was taking good care of himself; no, he was not running himself haggard; yes, Draco was still treating him well …

He was being an idiot, he knew that, but he just couldn't bring himself to actually enter St. Mungos and seek out a Healer. He should, he really should, because glowing hands after sex weren't normal; his magic suddenly disappearing like someone had blown a candle out or doing something entirely else than he intended to do definitely wasn't normal and even the occasional bout of nausea could not be called a normal thing to happen either.

It was just … He was afraid to discover just what exactly was wrong with him. Despite not having known for the first ten years of his life that he was a wizard, his magic had become an integral part of his life; something he had come to rely on, knowing it would never disappoint him.

Now it was acting up in weird ways and that scared the hell out of him. He didn't want to be abnormal again, didn't want to go back to being that freak the Dursleys had accused him of being so many times in the past.

If he went to the Healer now, that would really drive the truth home then. He would have to acknowledge that something was seriously wrong with him, that something was making his magic act up and turning him into a freak and –

He wasn't ready for that.

* * *

He had held the foolish hope that his magic would start acting normal again, that maybe it was just a spat because he had been taking on so many cases and his freaky magic was his body's way of telling him to slow the fuck down.

Of course nothing could ever be that easy for him.

Some of his spells kept turning into others – an _Incendio_ turning into an _Aguamenti_ ; a shield of thick ice meant to block an incoming curse turning into a mini snow tornado; _Accio_ destroying the item in question instead of giving it to him …

So far he had somehow managed to conceal his screw ups, but his luck would run out eventually. Either Ron would notice him muddling up a spell or one of the suspects would get a serious hit in.

His wounds kept healing quickly, no matter how bad they were. Bruises disappeared in just half an hour, scorch marks and burns took twenty minutes and deep cuts and gashes healed in just over an hour.

Then there was the subtle weight gain.

As the weeks passed and June changed into July, he became hard pressed to ignore the fact that he was gradually putting on weight. It wasn't anything serious yet; he didn't look like Peter Thompson, a nearly retired Auror who did mostly desk work these days but looked like he was spending whole days in Honeydukes instead.

No, the weight gain was subtle, but it was there and it was getting harder to ignore. His stomach was no longer flat, but had developed a light swelling for some reason, as if he had eaten too much of Molly's chocolate raspberry cake. The odd swelling was only visible when the light hit him in just the right way, but it was still _there_ and he could feel it when he ran his hand over his stomach. His legs and arse were filling out his trousers more as well.

This all, his magic, the weird healing, the weight gain – it was all getting beyond disturbing and he knew he had to visit a Healer soon.

How would he explain this, though? Would they even find the cause of whatever was screwing up his magic?

Was it too much to ask to just be normal for once?

* * *

The air in Draco's former bedroom felt pleasantly cool against his sun heated skin when he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

His birthday turned out to be the hottest day of the summer so far and Harry was absurdly grateful for the fact that Draco had convinced him to celebrate his birthday at Malfoy Manor this year. Whether it was handiwork of the house elves or something about the way the manor was built that didn't allow the heat of outside to seep in, the rooms remained pleasantly cool and offered a great refuge from the blazing heat outside.

At the moment Draco's childhood bedroom formed a good escape for Harry. He really loved his family and friends and greatly appreciated the fact that they had made time to celebrate his birthday today with him, but the crowd and the loud chattering had become rather overwhelming and he just needed to retreat for a while and surround himself with some silence.

He paused in front of the window and sat down on the light blue ottoman underneath the windowsill. Resting his head on the wall next to the window, he listened to the voices drifting up in the air, smiling when he heard his godson laughing brightly. He'd join them again soon, but for now it felt good to sit here and revel in the peace lingering in the room.

He felt at ease here and he relaxed further, swinging his legs up on the ottoman. The edge of the windowsill was cold against his bare arm, but he paid no attention to it. He could do with a bit of cooling off anyway. Even with Cooling Charms, sweat had been dripping down his face and back outside.

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there in Draco's old room, when a soft voice startled him into nearly falling off the ottoman. Only his awkward flailing and his feet hitting the floor with a ' _thud_ ' as he twisted around on the furniture prevented him from faceplanting.

"I thought I'd find you here," Narcissa said calmly, striding into the room and serenely ignoring how Harry's face had almost met the floor. "The party becoming a bit too much for you? Or perhaps the heat?"

He stood up, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, and grimaced. "A bit of both," he admitted begrudgingly. "I wasn't planning on hiding away here for the rest of the party, but I just needed to get away for a bit."

She nodded in understanding. "Yes, I understand that need perfectly. Merlin knows how many times I slipped away for a moment during balls or other festivities," she smiled, folding her hands in front of her. "I would advise you to warn Draco the next time you feel the need to get away for a bit, though. He was getting worried when he couldn't find you after a while."

He flushed with embarrassment. "Ah sorry, I should have thought about that, but I didn't realise I'd been sitting here for so long."

"That can happen to everyone," she reassured him and her bright blue eyes studied him before she added casually, "You're feeling up to joining the party again? I've come to understand that young Teddy is very eager to start on the cake."

"Yeah, I'll go back - " A hiccup interrupted his answer and while that would have been annoying on its own, he could only feel horror as a _bubble_ escaped his mouth all of a sudden, floated in front of him for a few seconds before popping.

Meeting astonished blue eyes, he stared at her wide eyed and opened his mouth to – yeah, to what? To apologise, to try to laugh it off, to explain? – say at least something, but he hiccupped a second bubble up and then a third and a fourth, which danced merrily in front of his eyes before popping one by one.

Slapping a hand for his mouth, he hastily pointed his wand at his face, prayed to Merlin that his magic wouldn't screw up right now, and muttered a spell that got rid of the hiccup.

Of course by now the damage was done and he lowered his hand slowly; heavy silence descending between them as they stared at each other.

Why had his luck decided to run out _now_? If it had been Ron with him, he could have convinced him it was just some sort of pranking spell he had been trying out on himself. Hermione might have been harder to convince, but he thought that in the end she would have believed him too and would have dismissed this accident with a roll of her eyes and a scolding about never trying out spells on himself.

All along he had feared that Draco might catch him during one of these incidents, because the blond man would be a lot harder to fool – Narcissa, though, she was impossible to fool.

 _He was utterly screwed._

"You've seen a Healer yet, Harry?" Narcissa asked calmly, but her eyes were slightly narrowed and her face smoothed out.

"Eh, no, not – not yet. I was planning to," he stammered, but her raised eyebrow informed him she didn't believe him.

 _Fuck._

"Have you had an … incident like this before?" she inquired; nothing in her voice or face giving away what she was really thinking about.

Numbly he nodded.

"How long?"

"Ar-around three months I guess?" He winced at the disapproval flashing up in her eyes for a few seconds. Saying it aloud only drove home the fact how stupid he'd been.

Three months of his body and magic fucking up and he still hadn't visited a specialist. He must be a special kind of stupid.

To her credit, she didn't declare him an idiot. Instead she pointed at the ottoman and said in a crisp voice, "Sit down and wait here. I'll be right back."

Hastily he did as he was told, figuring that would be better than trying to protest. He couldn't help but grow nervous as she marched out of the room; the ' _click_ ' as the door fell gently shut behind her seemed exceptionally loud now, drowning out the voices outside.

Fiddling with one of the buttons of his dark green robes, his eyes switched from one side of the room to the other one, but he was too worked up to really concentrate on one thing. He crossed his legs and his foot started moving up and down rapidly, jittery with nerves. Breathing out slowly through his mouth, he tried to ignore the nauseous feeling creeping up on him.

The last thing he needed was to throw up here. That would just be the icing on the cake after the mess he had already caused. Shit, why had he been so stupid? All he should have done was go see a Healer instead of finding excuses not to go.

When the door opened again, he froze when Draco entered the room first, closely followed by Narcissa. Draco looked confused, but a smile appeared on his face when he spotted Harry.

"There you are, I've been wondering where you were holing up," he said lightly, approaching him.

"Draco, sit down, please."

He frowned and turned his head to look at her. "Mother?" Whatever he saw in her face had him huff in annoyance, but he sank down on the ottoman next to Harry. Throwing his lover a half-hearted scowl, he muttered, "What the hell did you do now, Potter?"

Any other time and Harry would have a snarky response ready, but now he just clamped his mouth shut, feeling even sicker than before Draco had entered the room.

Narcissa came to a stop in front of them. She conjured a simple chair to sit in and when she did, she folded her hands neatly on her lap. Despite her rather demure appearance, her eyes were sharp and cool when she regarded both men.

"I'm going to ask Harry a couple of questions and aside from his answers, I don't want to hear anything else until I'm finished, is that understood?"

Next to Harry, Draco nodded his agreement bewildered, but Harry barely managed a nod; his chest starting to feel a bit tighter as if something was slowly squeezing his lungs together.

Turning to Harry, Narcissa asked flatly, "Has your magic been acting up? Spells that refuse to work or maybe even get switched with others for example? Or your magic influencing your body in odd ways?"

"Mother, what are you - "

"Be quiet, dear." She kept her gaze fixed on Harry. "Harry?"

Shame brewing in the pit of his belly, he nodded haltingly. "Y-yes, it usually happens a couple of times every week." He could feel Draco stiffen and he was too ashamed to look at him, knowing when he did he would meet angry, grey eyes.

She nodded as if she had expected that answer. "When you're wounded, do you experience accelerated healing?"

Did she know what was wrong with him? "Yeah, my injuries – they're healing on their own."

"What the fuck, Harry?"

"Draco, last warning," she said sharply and received a glare in response. "Have you gained weight in the last couple of weeks?"

Growing red, he was almost too embarrassed to reply, but in the end he nodded reluctantly. "Mostly around my stomach but … my legs as well."

"Hm, a question for the both of you," she said abruptly, flicking her eyes at her son. "Have you discussed your future together? I'm talking about possible marriage or how many children you want to raise."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Draco leant forwards slightly. "What kind of question is that? Of course we talked about that," he answered irritated. "In fact we were thinking about getting married sometime next year."

"And children?"

He rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, mother, we're not depriving you of grandchildren. We're thinking of having at least one, maybe two. Now care to tell what that has to do with your questions for Harry?"

"Why, Draco, I assumed you would have managed to make the link on your own," she retorted calmly; an undercurrent of amusement laced through her voice. "It surprises me you haven't yet, given my questions and Harry's answers."

"What are you talking about?" Harry questioned uncertainly; his eyes switching back and forth between the two blonds. He knew he was missing something, but what? What did their future together have to do with whatever had been plaguing Harry for a couple of months now?

Suddenly Draco inhaled sharply and his eyes were wide, a bit wild even when he demanded, "Wait, you're not suggesting he's – "

She quirked an eyebrow.

"But we haven't used any spells or potions!"

"What spells or potions?" Harry asked confused, growing annoyed when neither one answered him.

"It is rare, but it has been known to happen spontaneously. Usually when the timing is right and both partners are on the same wavelength," she said, smiling faintly. "I believe researchers are inclined to categorise these particular cases underneath the nomenclature of wish magic."

"Will someone please tell me what the hell you're talking about?" Harry exploded when all Draco did was gape at his mother instead of _explaining just what the fuck was going on_.

Wish magic? What did that have to do with whatever was screwing up his magic? He sure as hell hadn't wished for his magic to behave wonky!

He reared back in surprise when Draco quickly turned towards him and snatched his hands, gripping them tightly. He sounded rather strangled when he said, " _Harry, you're pregnant_."

Harry stared at him, ringing filling his ears.

Then everything turned dark.

* * *

 **AN2: I guess it wasn't that hard to guess what was wrong with Harry LOL**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the (definitive) last part!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: We have finally reached the end of this story. Thank you so much for your support; I really appreciate it! And especially thank you for your patience ^^; I had to finish this chapter today, so I hope it isn't too bad!**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: yukino76; Guest; MirrorFlower and DarkWind; Sweetciel; babyvfan; Rei . Avi; Ern Estine 13624; Guest; Yana5; TheBeauty; Ilamay; Baxter87; SehunsBae37; Lunacom**

 **Warnings: a bit of angst, but also fluff and a small time skip. I think that's it.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns it.**

 **For the last time, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

 _Part 3_

"You appear to have an extraordinary amount of luck, Mister Potter," Healer Harcus remarked, studying the parchment in his hands with narrowed eyes.

"Meaning?" Harry asked flatly; his hands lying curled up in fists on his thighs.

He'd woken up from his bout of unconsciousness around fifteen minutes ago, still in Draco's old bedroom, and had almost immediately been confronted by the Malfoys' private Healer. Harcus was a broad shouldered man, whose dark brown hair was streaked with grey and his beard neatly trimmed. His dark blue eyes were sharp and rather cool; his voice remaining monotone as he examined Harry.

"Is everything all right?" Draco inquired tersely, hovering next to the bed. His mouth was a thin line; a frown creasing his forehead faintly ever since Harry had woken up.

Narcissa was gone, having disappeared during the time Harry had been unconscious. She might have been the one to call the Healer and might be at this moment the only reason why the rest of his family and friends hadn't barged into the room yet. The others were probably wondering by now what was taking him and Draco so long to come downstairs again.

"Yes, remarkably they're both all right," Harcus replied, folding the parchment in two. "I say 'remarkably' considering Mister Potter's profession." The look he gave Harry was one of disapproval and Harry glared right back.

"It's not like I knew before today that I'm pregnant!" he bit out and some books on a shelf promptly dropped down on the floor. "Shit, sorry." He grimaced, hoping the books weren't that important.

"Don't worry about it," Draco murmured and with a flick of his wand, the books flew back to their places. "How far along is he?"

"Fourteen weeks. I estimate that the baby will be born somewhere in the beginning of February," Harcus answered and the parchment in his hand disappeared with a small puff of light purple smoke. "If you prefer, I can do the first ultrasound now. It is doubtful that the sex can already be determined, but we might as well do one now anyway."

"I'd like that," Draco said immediately and Harry nodded silently; his stomach doing an odd flip.

Having only regained consciousness a little while ago, he was still trying to come to terms with the fact that apparently he was pregnant. He was actually expecting a baby. There was a tiny human being currently growing inside of him.

That knowledge made his head spin and he was having a hard time wrapping his mind around it. He knew it was possible for men to get pregnant; Draco had explained the magical means that would make it possible for them to have children. So the idea of being pregnant as such didn't shock him – the fact that he hadn't used any of the magical means available, yet still ended up pregnant did, though. What on earth were they going to –

"Here's your child," Harcus announced, waving his wand in a complicated pattern above Harry's stomach.

A round screen popped into existence; its frame a dark blue while grey, black, and some white were swirling around in the centre, shifting and twisting around each other until it settled slowly. Most of the screen was layered in grey and black with right in the middle a black blob. Inside the black space there was a form, coloured a lighter grey, slowly moving around.

"Here's the head," Harcus pointed to the left of the small form, "and here are the legs and the arms. Can't tell yet whether it's a boy or a girl, but the baby is healthy and is growing as it should," he said gruffly.

Harry could only stare numbly at the screen, watching how the baby – _his baby_ – was waving his or her arms back and forth, turning slowly around. Next to him the bed dipped down when Draco sat down abruptly, but Harry paid him no mind, mesmerised by the screen floating in front of them.

"Give me a moment and I'll be able to …" Harcus trailed off; a concentrated look on his face as he traced a triangle into a square in the air, the tip of his wand glowing a soft yellow.

Suddenly a repetitive ' _thump, thump_ ' noise filled the room, not skipping a beat and Harry realised stunned that he was listening to –

"Your baby's heartbeat. Nothing wrong there either."

He was actually hearing _his baby's heartbeat_. He was watching him or her move around and he could listen to the heartbeat and …

Fuck, he hadn't expected this.

* * *

"You do look a bit pale," Hermione said, worrying her lip between her teeth as she came up to embrace him. "Let us know if you need anything, okay?" she fussed, hugging him.

He hugged her back, breathing in her scent of old parchment and apples. "I will," he reassured her.

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my boyfriend, Granger," Draco drawled. He was standing a bit behind Harry, watching everyone say goodbye with his arms crossed; only tolerating a hug of his own from his mother, his Aunt Andromeda and Teddy.

She pulled back and sniffed, frowning at him. "That doesn't mean we can't worry about our best friend, Malfoy," she reminded him sharply.

"That's a concept he probably doesn't under-" Ron's remark was cut off by Hermione who stamped down on his foot, making him hiss and flinch. He scowled at her, but didn't finish his sentence, knowing from experience that something worse than just a temporary painful foot would happen then.

"Feel better soon, Uncle Harry," Teddy said, his eyes – a very light blue this time- wide with worry, embracing him tightly around his waist.

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco twitch as if to move forwards, but he stilled when Harry hugged his godson back. "I will, don't worry," he smiled, ruffling the mahogany brown hair the boy had settled on today.

When they finished their goodbyes, they stepped into the fireplace to Floo back home. Before the green fire whisked them away, Harry caught the concerned faces of Hermione and Ron and he offered them a quick smile, which he hoped would put them at ease.

After Harcus had left, Harry and Draco had agreed to return to their place. The conversation they needed to have was best had at home, so they had made the excuse that Harry wasn't feeling well – which wasn't exactly a lie – and they would be going home.

Harry knew he couldn't keep his family and friends out of the loop for much longer – not when he was already starting to show – but for now he couldn't tell them yet. He was still trying to grasp the fact that he was expecting a baby; he couldn't deal yet with the multitude of questions that would no doubt be sprung upon him once the others knew about the pregnancy.

With the sunlight being filtered through the drapes, the living room was rather dark, but cool and they halted in front of the couch. They looked at each other and for the first time since waking up the gravity of his situation hit him all at once and he buckled through his knees, dropping down heavily onto the couch.

Hunching forwards and burying his face in his hands, Harry whispered, "Oh fuck."

"Oh fuck indeed," Draco murmured and there was a pause in which nobody spoke before he uttered a sigh and sank down next to the dark haired man. "How are you feeling?"

A hysterical chuckle tried to fight its way through, but Harry forced it down and replied in a strained voice, "I don't know, Draco. I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to be feeling." Taking a deep breath, he sat up and turned around to face the blond. "How could this happen? I didn't take any of those potions you mentioned, we didn't cast the appropriate spells – how the hell could I be pregnant then?"

It was a question which had been hounding him ever since waking up in Draco's old bedroom. Neither of them had cast the spells and even as inept in Potions as he was, Harry would have known immediately if any of the potions he'd taken during the last couple of months – unfortunate consequences of battling Dark Wizards – had been a Fertility Potion.

No spells, no potions; what could have possibly caused the pregnancy to happen then?

Narcissa had mentioned something about wish magic, about both partners being on the same wavelength – what had that been about? What did wish magic have to do with him ending up pregnant?

"What was Narcissa talking about when she said that thing about wish magic?" he demanded; his hands balling into fists on his thighs.

Rubbing his forehead, Draco replied slowly, "There are – stories; tales about wizards and witches powerful enough to not need a potion or a spell to get pregnant."

"How then?"

"It's rare, but … When someone is powerful enough and they have a – deep connection with their partner, a pregnancy might occur if both wish to have a child," Draco explained stiffly; his eyes looking everywhere but Harry's face. "Researchers are still trying to discover how exactly it happens, but at the moment they assume that a pregnancy can happen if there's enough magical prowess in play, together with a great desire to have a child. If the right elements occur at the right moment, that results in a baby then."

Green eyes stared at him. "So, what are you saying? That we were both secretly wishing for a baby?" Harry asked incredulously.

How absurd! So all they had to do was wish for a baby and poof, there it was? That was just ridiculous!

"Clearly we were, otherwise you wouldn't be pregnant now," Draco bit out and crossed his arms. His shoulders were tense and he looked only a moment away from bolting out of the room.

"B-but that's just not possible!" Harry sputtered, throwing his hands up. "I'd know if I was wishing for a baby! Why the hell would I want a baby now? I'm this close to getting promoted to Head Auror – I wasn't planning on having children for another few years!"

Draco knew that; they had discussed it in length once they'd realised how serious their relationship had got. They had agreed that either one of them would propose to the other somewhere next year, but they would wait at least four more years before actually expanding their family. Four years had been deemed an appropriate time frame in both their minds: by then Draco would be running his own Potions business and Harry would be Head Auror. That promotion wasn't officially set in stone yet, but Kingsley had already confided in him that he was a shoo-in for the position. It would only take one more year tops before Harry would be granted the title.

Being Head Auror would come with a shit ton of responsibilities, sure, but he wouldn't be required to be out in the field as much as he was now. Less required presence in the field would leave him more time to take care of any children they'd decide to have.

It had been the perfect plan – until now.

Now he was fourteen weeks pregnant, not even close to getting the promotion, and all that because of some supposed wish magic.

"How the hell should I know?" Draco snapped; his eyes flashing. "I'm not an expert in magic, Harry! I can only tell you what I've heard and read, that's all. We didn't use any spells or potions, yet you're pregnant, so the only other explanation is that a part of us wanted a child badly enough that our magic took care of it."

Was that true? Had a part of him desired a baby so much that his magic had decided to take care of it? Wouldn't he have realised that if that was the case? Even so, there was no other possible explanation for his predicament. No spells had been cast, no potions had been swallowed, yet he'd seen the proof floating right in front of him not even an hour ago.

He was pregnant. They were expecting a baby together. There was no point in trying to deny that.

The question was: what were they going to do now?

Leaning back until his head and back rested against the couch, he ran his hands through his hair, trying to figure out where they were supposed to go from here. What did you do when you became pregnant unexpectantly? When all your plans for the future were suddenly upended and you were left floundering around, not even knowing what you actually wanted?

"Why didn't you tell me about your symptoms?"

Draco's voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he shook his head, caught off guard. "Sorry, what?"

"Your symptoms, why didn't you tell me?" Draco repeated, a tad impatient. "You know, the whole self-healing, your magic screwing up, your weight gain – those ring a bell to you?"

His voice grew bitter towards the end and when Harry looked at him, Draco had a pinched look on his face; his eyes shuttered.

"Don't – it's stupid," Harry muttered, glancing away; shame flaring up.

"I don't care; I still want to know why you didn't tell me. Do you even realise how dangerous it was for you to be out in the field with your magic screwing up?" Draco asked coolly.

"What, you think I would have gone on all those missions if I'd known about the baby sooner than today?" Harry threw back sharply; a part of him felt hurt that Draco thought he'd be so callous. How could he think Harry would have risked the life of their unborn child? Sure, the baby was completely unexpected, but that didn't mean he wished harm to him or her!

Draco rose up, stepping away until the coffee table was in between them. "You knew something was wrong, though!" he said frustrated, crossing his arms. "You could have talked to me! Why did my mother have to discover you're pregnant before I did?"

" _I_ didn't even know I'm pregnant until today! It's not like I kept it a secret from you!"

"Then why couldn't you have just - "

"Because I'm tired of feeling like a freak, all right!" He hadn't even realised he'd jumped up and stepped forwards until the edge of the table was digging into his legs.

Stunned, grey eyes met his and before he could stop himself, the words kept pouring out, "What the hell did you expect me to do? Suddenly I started healing on my own, my magic started screwing up – I've been considered a freak before, do you really think I wanted to go back to that? I don't want to feel like a freak, I want to be fucking normal for once! But then my magic kept acting up, I kept healing without any spells and it just got worse. I didn't know how to tell you, okay? I didn't know how to tell you that I'm apparently even a bigger freak than some people thought."

He was breathing heavily by the time he stopped and at once both relief and shame rushed through him. Shit, he hadn't meant to explode like that; he definitely hadn't wanted Draco to know that he had felt like a freak for the past couple of months. The blond man knew about Harry's past with the Dursleys, knew about the way they had treated him and his outburst just now would only confirm to Draco that he hadn't put the past behind him as he'd stated after their conversation about the Dursleys.

This wasn't about the Dursleys, though. This was about the fact that once again he didn't have control over his own life.

"You're not a freak, Harry," Draco said, sounding upset as he took a step closer.

"That's not the point, Draco," Harry said tersely, dragging a hand across his face. A headache was building up and he wanted nothing more than to just lie down and go to sleep, forget everything that had happened today for just a moment. "I know – I know I'm not, but I just … I didn't know what to do, okay? I got … scared," he admitted haltingly, wrapping his arms around himself.

"Harry …"

"Suddenly there were moments my magic didn't do what it was supposed to do and all my injuries kept healing and I know, okay? I know I should have talked to you about it, but … I just thought that – that it'd go away on its own if I didn't pay attention to it. If I – if I just ignored it, everything might turn back to normal and I didn't want to worry you. I just …" He took a shuddering breath, not even sure anymore what he was trying to explain.

Everything was messed up and he didn't know what to do anymore.

Arms wrapped around him, pulling him against Draco's body and he closed his eyes, resting his head on Draco's shoulder. They stood there for a while; the sounds of birds chirping and children laughing in the distance washed over them.

"You can't go into the field anymore," Draco said quietly. His left hand was resting on Harry's hip, but the other was rubbing over Harry's back, a soothing motion that had the dark haired man slump against him.

"I know," Harry murmured and sighed. "I wasn't planning to."

It had been a miracle that the baby hadn't been harmed thus far, considering the amount of danger he'd been in during his missions. He didn't want to risk finding out whether his luck would hold out or not.

Thinking about the missions, though … " _Why_ am I healing without spells or potions actually?" He frowned, pulling away slightly to look at Draco. Narcissa hadn't appeared that surprised by the revelation, but there hadn't been any explanation so far as to why the spontaneous healing was occurring.

"I kind of get why my magic is messing up, I think, but what's the deal about the healing?" The hand on his back stilled. "Is that healing thing something that happens to every pregnant person?"

"Not everyone. Some experience it, some don't." Draco shrugged, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he placed an absent kiss on Harry's forehead. "The baby's actually helping you heal."

"The baby," Harry repeated flatly; his mind blanking at that particular titbit of information.

"Yes, the baby. The baby depends on you for everything: from food to safety. Your magic is linked to his or hers as well, so when you get seriously hurt, the baby helps speed up the healing progress by pushing a bit of his or hers magic to you through the link you share. A simple cut or a burn cured quickly by a spell won't trigger the healing process, but if you get injured worse than that, you might grow too weak to support the baby. To prevent you from becoming too incapacitated, the baby will offer you his or her own magic to help you. You get better quicker and the baby is reassured that you'll be able to take care of him or her again."

"So basically what you're saying is that every unborn child has Slytherin tendencies," Harry remarked blankly as he digested what he'd just been told. Their baby had been helping him heal this whole time?

"If having a shred of self-preservation is a Slytherin tendency, then by all means, all unborn children are Slytherins," Draco drawled. "With a bit of luck that tendency is something our baby will give to you as well through your link."

That startled a laugh out of Harry for some reason and the corners of Draco's mouth curled up; both his hands resting on the younger man's hips now.

Laughing – even as short as this bout had been – left him feeling tired and he released a soft sigh, rubbing both hands over his face. "I want to sleep a bit. I'm tired," he confessed quietly.

Lips pressed a soft kiss against his own. "Then sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

Harry nodded and together they made their way upstairs. As Harry climbed in the bed, dragging the thin blanket over his body, Draco settled down next to him; his fingers sinking down in black strands. "Sleep, I'm here."

Sleep engulfed him as soon as he closed his eyes.

* * *

They didn't talk about the baby for a while after that. Not yet ready to confess the truth, Harry requested Kingsley to put him on leave for at least a couple of weeks, telling him that the amount of cases he'd been working on lately were wearing down on him.

Knowing that Harry would never willingly ask to be put on leave unless it was absolutely necessary, Kingsley readily agreed and granted him three weeks off, insisting that he needed to take care of himself.

Ron looked like he wanted to ask a million questions all at once when Harry told him he'd be on leave for three weeks, but he held himself back, only clasping Harry's shoulder and reassuring him they could talk whenever Harry felt ready and that he'd make sure Hermione wouldn't bother him too much.

This was one of those moments when Harry felt incredibly grateful to have found such a good friend in Ron.

On leave didn't mean he had let go of his work entirely and his days were spent looking through old files, editing them when necessary and finishing some paperwork he had kept pushing off. He visited the Burrow where he let Molly fuss over him and discussed Seeker's tactics with Ginny. George was all too happy to have him helping out in the shop for a couple of hours and Teddy was absolutely delighted to be able to spend some time with his godfather.

None of them knew about the baby. Andromeda did side-eye him sometimes during his visits at her house, but she didn't confront him – either she didn't know or she had decided it wasn't her place to talk about it.

During his first week off Harry felt like he was living in some kind of bubble. He acted normal around his friends and family, but all the while in the back of his mind there was a voice reminding him that inside his stomach, there was a baby growing steadily, waiting for the day when he or she was ready to be born.

A child he hadn't expected to have, not yet, not at this point in his life, but who was there already.

A baby he and Draco needed to discuss properly before deciding what they were going to do, but it was easier for now to remain silent. Easy to not rankle up the conversation again.

It was easy – until Harry returned home during his second week off after having visited Teddy again.

It wasn't difficult not to think about it until he passed their bedroom and a new addition at the foot of the bed caught his eye.

It suddenly wasn't so easy anymore when he halted in front of a soft blue crib with delicate looking white bows on each side and a small mattress with a pale green blanket already placed inside of it.

A crib ready for a new arrival.

Arms slipped around him from behind and a hand came to rest on his stomach, right over the gentle swell which was starting to become more difficult to hide.

Cupping his belly, _covering their baby_ , for the first time since they had discovered the truth and all of a sudden Harry's eyes started to sting and a shudder rippled through him; his own hands coming down to grip those arms tightly.

"I know we haven't discussed it properly yet," Draco murmured; his warm breath caressing Harry's ear, "but I want this – I want to have this baby with you. Yes, it's earlier than expected, but – everything happens for a reason, doesn't it? Harry, I really want this baby. You?"

 _Everything happens for a reason_. In their case that was certainly true, wasn't it? If neither of them had wanted a baby, their child wouldn't be here now. His magic knew him better than he knew himself.

When he thought about it – his decision had already been made, hadn't it? There was no way he could have ever lived with himself if he'd decided to get rid of his baby. No way he could have just given away his baby to someone else.

This baby had been his ever since the moment he'd laid eyes on the screen and saw him or her moving around for the first time.

He just hadn't been ready yet to accept that truth.

Until now.

Now there was no longer any doubt as to what he wanted to do.

Some tears slipped out, tracking a wet trail down his cheeks when he turned around in Draco's embrace and kissed him; a hint of desperation fuelling their kiss as he looped his arms around Draco's shoulders.

"Yeah," he whispered wetly, watching grey eyes starting to shimmer with unshed tears. "I want to have this baby with you."

* * *

 _February_

"You know, when you think about it, I actually gave you a second birthday gift last year," Draco mused aloud; his eyes fixated on the small pink bundle cradled protectively against his chest.

Green eyes opened slowly and Harry asked drowsily, still recovering from the strain of giving birth just a few hours ago, "Oh yeah? Refresh my memory then, because I can only remember that magically enchanted cloak."

"You love that cloak," Draco sniffed, drawing closer to the bed. He lowered the bundle carefully onto Harry's chest, helping him sit upright a bit, so that he could look at their baby boy. Fine, dark hair peeked out from underneath the blanket and grey blue eyes blinked sleepily back at him; his dark pink mouth pursed into a tiny pout.

Automatically, in spite of the exhaustion making his body feel like it was filled with concrete, a smile appeared on Harry's face and he pressed a soft kiss on their son's forehead, filled with an overwhelming sense of love for their precious son. Seeing their baby boy healthy and perfect was more than worth the ten gruelling hours he had spent in labour.

"Still waiting for you to refresh my memory," he reminded his fiancé when the other man seemed content to just stare smitten at them.

Draco snorted and sat down next to him; their engagement rings – one of Draco's Christmas presents for him; something which the smug bastard liked to show off whenever he could – gleaming in the weak sunlight when he linked their hands together.

"I reckon it's a very belated birthday present, considering it only arrived today," he smirked, kissing Harry's cheek. Harry was pretty sure that had to be gross, considering the sweat he'd worked up during his labour, but the blond man didn't seem perturbed by it. "But I hope you can forgive me for the delay. The present turned out rather perfect, don't you think so?"

"Shut up," Harry laughed, leaning against Draco's shoulder. "You can only be smug about one thing: our son or our upcoming marriage, not both."

"I'm great at multitasking – you should know that," Draco retorted with a wink and chuckled when Harry slapped his thigh in retaliation; the red flush on his cheeks no longer having anything to do with the exertion of their son's birth.

"Well, it's a great gift," Harry allowed, smiling; settling their baby better on his chest when he started to fuss slightly. "Even if it was delayed by several months."

"Good things come to those who wait, Potter."

"Enjoy saying that last name while you still can – am I not turning Malfoy in a couple of months?" This time it was Harry's turn to smirk when Draco became slack jawed; his cheeks dusted a faint pink as his pupils dilated subtly – proof that he very much liked the idea of Harry accepting his family name.

Taking pity on the blond, who seemed to have trouble stringing together a coherent sentence at the moment, he leant up and kissed him sweetly on his mouth. "I love you."

Grey eyes glittered and a thumb started caressing Harry's hand. "I love you too."

They fell silent, gazing at their son who was drifting off to sleep, until Draco murmured, "I do hope you won't mind receiving a birthday gift this year that won't be as belated as this one was."

Harry smiled, watching how their son's eyes slowly slipped close. "Whatever you give me is fine. After all, this present turned out to be pretty perfect if you ask me."

A tad delayed, but very much a perfect gift if you asked Harry.

Yeah, he definitely couldn't complain about this gift; it was the best one he would ever receive.

That he did not doubt at all.

 **The End**

* * *

 **AN2: I know it didn't have much of the rest of the pregnancy in it, but for some reason I felt like this particular ending scene worked out better for the story. Or maybe that's just me. That's also possible. In that case, I can only hope you didn't find it too horrible to read! And yes, I still suck at writing decent endings - one wonders whether I'll ever get the hang of it *coughs***

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in my future stories!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


End file.
